


Measuring her mettle

by Summerlake



Series: Dragon Age: Strong souls [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Opposite POV, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6205192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summerlake/pseuds/Summerlake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something had changed as Haven came crashing down all around them. The Herald had become the Inquisitor, with all the responsibilities and demands such a role carried. He figured now was as good a time as any for her to hear her own people and what this all meant to them.<br/>Iron Bull's PoV on the Herald's ascension and events between ch 27 and 28 of Saar asala.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Measuring her mettle

**Author's Note:**

> This is not so much a Bull's PoV of a scene you have already read as a scene I'm skipping in the main story because it'd just be a bunch of repetitions with very few new things. There wasn't either a really good scene anytime soon that I wanted to do as a Bull's PoV. And this way I'm covering the "meeting the troops" and "drinking with the Chargers" as well as letting Bull have a moment to consider the full transformation of Asala.
> 
> This took slightly longer than my usual 4-5 days (tops) between updates and it's not even a real update (of the main story). Not entirely happy with it either.

“Why am I dressed like this?”

Iron Bull turned around to face Grim’s tent. The emotion that had filled the Inquisitor’s voice was clearly displayed upon her face; dubiousness. He could have laughed, but he didn’t. Grim was the biggest man in the company and so his clothes were the most likely to fit her. Even if she and Krem had been of a size, she would probably have keeled over in that heavy armour and ruined the disguise. They couldn’t really use her clothes for this though. _Everyone_ knew what the Herald looked like; a Qunari in very Qunari clothing. She had even put up her hair for this, it helped make her look less like herself.

“You’ll see. Come on,” he answered her with a grin ghosting on his lips. Her expression didn’t change but she did follow him. “It’ll be worth your time, promise.” She appeared to want to reply with how there were a lot of things needing her time and attention but refrained. Given how it was evening, he would have doubted it anyway. Unless she was doing like the commander, of course, which wouldn’t be a surprise now that he thought about it… If that turned out to be the case, he might have to do something about it. Despite everything that had happened recently, he hadn’t forgotten what happened when she got too stressed. It was a miracle she hadn’t cracked after Haven came crashing down but maybe the snowstorm she was trapped in had numbed her to the point that even stress had turned into icicles and fallen off.

He led the way down into the lower courtyard. Now, what would be good…? He surveyed the area and spotted a pair of soldiers playing cards. They looked suitable. The woman had the looks of a veteran about her. Asala muttered something about why she was here like this when she would most likely be recognised. Iron Bull refrained from shaking his head. Hence the disguise, weak as it was, but he had some of it covered. She’d see soon enough. Also, she had been the Herald of Andraste up until recently. People had known _of_ her and what she looked like in general terms but not more specifically. That was bound to change soon.

As Inquisitor, she would become far more visible. Cullen, Cassandra and Josephine would all start deferring to her more and, most importantly, openly. Her face would be known. Right now, she still had the shield of semi-anonymity. Due to Haven and her promotion, this was the best time for what he had in mind. It might help her prepare mentally, but also tell him a bit more about what she thought of the promotion. A lot had changed lately. She most of all. Usually people didn’t change that drastically but she had been through some very weird shit. It would probably have been creepier if she _hadn’t_ changed in the least.

They had reached the soldiers and he raised an arm in greeting. “Evening,” he called to them as their attention turned to the two Qunari. “Iron Bull. My merc band just joined up,” he introduced them. Asala had taken to walking on his blind side mostly. It was so he knew he always had an ally on that side, she had given for explanation. It was a fair comment but at times he wondered if she also did it so she would know when he was studying her. At least when she wasn’t up front. It was damn easy to study some parts of her when she was in the lead, he had to admit, but none of them were as useful as they were appealing. Considering how he didn’t feel her frowning gaze upon him now, and no one made a comment, he assumed she would see where he was going with this and if it would work.

The woman nodded at them and gave a quick gesture to some nearby boxes being used as stools. “Welcome. Have a seat.” Her accent was thick and Orlesian.

“Tanner,” the man opposite her introduced himself as they both sat down. This time, Asala placed herself where he could see her in his peripheral vision without problem. To be fair, it would probably have raised a few brows if she hadn’t. “I’m from Jader. Well, near Jader,” the young man continued. He sounded fairly new if Iron Bull had any say in it. His accent was less pronounced as was expected from someone in the border regions of Orlais and Ferelden.

“Mira,” the woman said with a nod. “I was guard-captain for Lady Pendell but signed on after shit blew up at the Conclave.” Her no-nonsense attitude and sharp mannerism confirmed her veteran status more than any background references did. “Share a drink?”

“Never said no to a drink before,” Iron Bull replied with a quick grin and tanner poured a cup. He passed it to Iron Bull who handed it on to Asala but she gave a short shake of her head. He shrugged and kept the cup for himself.

“Who’s your friend?” Mira asked as he took a swallow. The stuff wasn’t half bad.

“This is Grim.” He could see her quick sideway glance at him. She either found his use of one of his company members’ name for her odd or was silently betting how long it would take for the lie to be called. He would take her up on that bet. “She doesn’t talk much,” he added on with a quick nod at the woman beside him. She cast him a quick frown then snorted. She had unofficially taken on the role of Inquisitor a while ago but she was apparently still willing to follow his lead and see what he intended with this charade. Even the official recognition hadn’t changed that. Interesting, but good.

Neither Mira nor Tanner contested the introduction.

“So, you ready to kill some demons or Venatori… or whatever that Corypheus asshole is?”

Mira frowned at him. “This isn’t just about killing,” she protested with a shake of her head. “We’re helping the Inquisitor save the world and build the next empire.” Interesting. She was the more hardened of the two, that much was obvious, but she still held on to her beliefs and high dreams. That was usually the first to die in a veteran. Mira was either the kind who saw mercenaries as a necessary evil or had little time for them due to her beliefs. Then again, considering recent events, he could see how even hardened veterans might get some faith back. Beside him, Asala frowned at the statement but didn’t say anything.

Iron Bull shrugged. “Well, long as I get paid, I’m happy. That’s why I signed up.”

“I just couldn’t spend my whole life on a farm!” Tanner exclaimed. “Needed to live a little, you know?”

“Careful so you don’t live your way right into an early grave.”

They all turned and looked at Asala. The comment hadn’t been loud but it didn’t need to be. Iron Bull could see how it would apply to Tanner. He was young, eager and while maybe not ambitious, his faith led the way. That, as surely as ambition, could lead to an early grave just as quick.

“You signed up recently but I saw what happened at Haven,” Mira replied with a shake of her head. “The Inquisitor staring down that monster and his archdemon…” A haunted look passed through her eyes but it was just as swiftly gone. A veteran in truth to be able to compartmentalise horror and fear. She would survive in her line of work, Iron Bull estimated silently. She came back to them with a wry smile on her lips. “I don’t sing the Chant of Light as much as I should, but you can’t see something like that and not believe.”

Asala met the other woman’s eyes head on for a few seconds then gave a short nod, acquiescing her point on some level. It made him wonder.

As a Vashoth, she would have come in contact with the Chant from an early age most likely. Of course, there could have been something in her life that caused her to stop believing or simply harden but it didn’t ring true. Maybe her parents had given her other fundamental ideas and views to believe in. He had been meaning to make some inquiries with agents of the Ben-Hassrath elsewhere or perhaps even of the heads up in Qunandar but a lot had been happening lately. It had even been difficult to get off a note about the events at Haven since they escaped and relocated.

A few more topics were exchanged but after his drink was finished he put down the cup and stood up. “Well, Grim and I should our tents. Thanks for the drink.” The two humans nodded at them as they left, Asala a step behind him. They were nearly back by the Chargers’ tents and she had yet to say anything. She appeared to be considering the meeting and what had been said. He guessed now was as good a time as any, especially while they still had some peace and quiet. He slowed and veered off a few steps to the side to stop by the curtain wall. Leaning against it, he nodded at her.

“I know every soldier under my command. You don’t have that option.” She gave an amused snort at the understatement. “But a few faces might help.”

“They believe. No matter where they came from or what circumstances brought them here, most of them believe or have come to believe.” It sounded like she found it a bit annoying.

“Maybe. Would you like them not to?”

She shrugged. “Whether or not I agree with it, if it keeps them alive longer and fighting hard I won’t tell them not to. If they need it, then so be it. However, I’ll try to minimise any direct confirmation of divinity.” She was still willing to stand for some personal discomfort if it benefitted the whole then. Good to know some of her more important, or at least useful, opinions and mannerism had survived being thrown into the future, nearly killed and given the lead of a huge organisation. Then she shot him a lopsided smile. “It was good to hear them though. With so much going on, it’s not easy to get the time to talk to them and…” she trailed off with a frown.

“Most might be too nervous to tell you the truth anyway if you came up to them,” he finished for her. Her expression changed, stating the “that, yes” she didn’t say out loud. “It’s hard to be just an idea sometimes and that’s all you are to most of them,” he agreed with a nod. He had known of that dilemma before. “It’s also why you could stand right in front of them without being recognised.”

She met his eye at that, a cheeky brow raised. “So it wasn’t thanks to your brilliant disguise then?”

“Hey. That’s good work with so few resources at hand,” he snorted at her and was rewarded with a very low chuckle in response. “Well… You’ve got a good army coming along. Remember that, no matter what comes next.” She nodded, sobering quickly. Iron Bull considered her for a second and then made a decision. “You should come along and meet my crew while we’re on the subject. Have a drink with us tonight.” She raised a brow at that.

“In this?” she questioned, indicating her body still garbed in Grim’s clothes.

“Yeah. Take another hour off tonight. It’ll do you good.”

She gave him a long stare, dubiousness shining in her eyes despite the growing darkness. If he had to guess, he would say she doubted his statement that a few drinks with his rowdy company would be relaxing in any way. In the end she heaved a sigh. “All right,” she replied with barely veiled resignation. Did she doubt he wouldn’t let her say no? Well, only if she gave any indication of hesitation in the matter. “May I at least go drop off my things in my room first?”

“Sure, boss. I’ll see you in your bedroom.”

She glared at him before stalking off. “I hate that name,” he heard her grumble about the newly established tavern. The name wasn’t set in stone yet but the Herald’s Rest was gaining ground among the soldiers. He chuckled as he went to hunt down his crew. He didn’t doubt she would join them soon.

They didn’t need to wait long. She had changed back into her own clothes though with the exception of Grim’s large jacket that hung open while she carried the rest of his stuff in her arms. Truth be told, he hadn’t seen her without something extra on ever since she had almost died in the snow during her escape from Haven. It was almost like she couldn’t get completely warm again since then or was afraid of a similar situation happening and wanted to be prepared.

Iron Bull grinned at Asala as she approached. “You found your way back! Good.”

“Maybe it’s more along the lines she didn’t get scared off by your mug, chief,” Krem jibed beside him and he snorted.

“Hey… watch it, little man.” Asala smiled though as she found a nearby chair and moved it over. “So! How you doin’, Krem de la Crème?” he smirked at the young man, getting his own back. His second-in-command rolled his eyes.

“Your Worship, I’m so glad he has someone new to hit with that joke,” the Tevinter drawled. Asala tilted her head slightly and smiled. It looked as though she was finding the whole exchange fairly amusing.

“And what do you prefer?”

“Krem’s faster, but the chief’s nicknames usually end up sticking,” Krem replied with a shrug.

Iron Bull levelled a frown at his lieutenant. “Hey, when I was growing up, my name was just a series of numbers. We all give each other nicknames under the Qun.” The placement of the Chargers this evening hadn’t been accidental. He’d made sure Asala would end up within view from his good eye, something he now utilised. There was no surprise regarding that statement but she could have heard it before. She was part of a fully Qunari mercenary company after all. And then Krem, the cheeky demon, burped out a comeback.

“They ever wear shirts under the Qun, chief?” He had moved his gaze to the other man but he heard Asala’s choked chuckle just fine. “Or do they just run around binding their breasts like that?” He narrowed his eyes at Krem.

“It’s a harness, Krem,” he told the other pointedly. There was movement beside him and he glanced over at Asala. She was obviously amused but she also appeared to be holding back a comment. He assumed it was related to their banter. What he wasn’t sure of was if it was based on her own choice of clothing or due to having a more… _personal_ knowledge about the subject. In the end, she didn’t say anything. Krem did though. Where was a gag when you needed it?

“Yes,” the young man agreed with a cheeky grin, “for your pillowy man-bosoms.” There was a muted cough beside him. The woman could need some lecturing, too. “Let me know if you need help binding. You could really chisel something out of that overstuffed look.”

“Ah… Oh.”

Krem’s face immediately went minutely harder. “Yeah, that’d be one of the mildest reactions I’ve ever had.” This would be interesting, seeing what her opinion would be.

Asala shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just hadn’t realised.” One corner of Krem’s mouth stretched but she continued before he had the chance to say anything. “You’re aqun-athlok.”

Iron Bull blinked and turned his attention fully onto the woman. He wasn’t the only one. It would have been hard for her to not realise she’d just said something weird. She rubbed at the back of her neck, looking slightly awkward before shooting him a glance.

“That is… how the term is used, yes? It’s how I was taught.”

By her parents, or…? He didn’t say but he wanted to. Instead he nodded. Iron Bull turned his eye onto Krem who was looking at him now, too. “That’s what the Qunari call someone born one gender but living like another,” he explained and the Tevinter nodded.

“And Qunari don’t treat those… aqun people any different than a real man?”

“They _are_ real men,” Iron Bull replied with finality. It was just how it was. “Just like you are.”

An inaudible snort of amusement left the lieutenant, only visible in how his nose flared at the exhale and the smile upon his lips. “Maybe your people aren’t so bad after all.”

Iron Bull gave him a sharp, lopsided smile. “Don’t get your hopes up, Krem. We still come down hard on the back talk,” he warned the other. The young man chuckled and raised his cup to drink. Iron Bull turned his gaze back onto Asala. “Anyway, here’s the rest of the Chargers… or what’s left of the rest,” he said with a shrug and a grin. “A lot of ‘em went looking for stronger drinks.”

“Do they take after you then? Or are they poisoning themselves into an early grave on their own accord?” she interjected with a small grin and tilted head before he could continue. Krem snorted into his cup and just barely avoided putting it down the wrong pipe.

“Very funny.” A small voice at the back of his head told him he wouldn’t want to be stuck travelling with Krem and Asala at the same time for long because they might just make each other worse. He went on to introduce them all and they were in the middle of poking fun at Dalish and her “bow” when the scream and fireworks erupted outside. Asala shot up as though she had been fired out of a dreadnaught cannon, her mug and its content crashing to the floor. So much for another hour of relaxation. Iron Bull followed her closely behind. She was very quick and agile when she needed to be. Despite the other patrons rushing to see what was up, she was one of the first to make it out of the tavern.

The event in question was down by the gates in the lower bailey where the noise and movement had died down almost completely by now. It had apparently been deemed calm enough by the people guilty of the mess; a group of three young mages. They wore robes and the only other person by the inner gate had was unconscious with the kind of severe burns only a lightning spell could cause. Iron Bull grimaced at the parts of the female guard’s skin that was visible. It was good she was out cold. The other guard, an man past his prime but able, didn’t have a scratch on him. The hum of power around him and the way the three mages huddled together, would have told most the man was, or at least had been, a templar.

Asala tore down the steps. The tension in her muscles was visible in her harsh stride but her face must have been pretty murderous seeing how the three mages swiftly seemed to shrink further. She was also swearing in Qunlat but quit before she reached the gate.

“What’s the meaning of this!?” she snarled as soon as she got close enough.

“They tried to leave without authorisation… Your Worship.” Iron Bull would give it to the man, he didn’t balk in the face of a furious, horned giant as many would.

“W… we want to l-leave!” He had almost reached them, too, when a one of the two young men in the group plucked up the courage to speak. “W-we won’t stand for being imprisoned here just like we were in the circle.”

Asala snapped around to focus her gaze upon the mages and he could see her face clearly now. If looks could be on fire… Considering how she was a mage, he was almost surprised her eyes weren’t shooting flames. “Leave?” That one word was the complete opposite of her face; deadly cold. Whirling around again, she pinned the first person she came across with her gaze. “I want the Grand Enchanter down here. _Now_!” The man was away almost before her snarl left her mouth “And two more templars awoken!” she yelled after the fleeing messenger before rounding on the young adults once more. “Leave?” she spat and jabbed a hand at the unconscious guard. “You know why you are all here to begin with! Why do you think people fear you?! Because they worry _this_ is what you’ll do at the slightest insult or loss of temper!”

Asala stormed over to the soldier, the person who had gone to check upon the woman, a man from the tavern, quickly retreated. Iron Bull didn’t blame him. He was interested in seeing how she would deal with this though. Her thoughts upon the mage rebellion were clear enough. Dropping down beside the unconscious woman, Asala began healing her but the trio of mages held her attention, much to their chagrin. Her eyes were murderous. “You think you would survive out there if you act like this?! Actually, this kind of actions is the _reason_ you should be supervised. You have no control! No respect!” At the sound of hurrying steps coming closer and people shuffling out of the way in the stairs, Iron Bull cast his eye in the din’s direction. The templars she had requested were hurrying towards them, just as expected. They didn’t wear their armour but they had at least grabbed a sword and shield.

He turned his attention back onto the scene before him. Asala’s whole face had shut down into deadly calm. “If this woman doesn’t recover from her wounds, I guess we all know what your final punishment shall be. But until then…” Her eyes snapped over to the templars as they passed Iron Bull. “I want these idiots in the cells, _any_ cells that aren’t in danger of falling apart, and guarded by a templar at all times! And where’s the bloody Grand Enchanter!?”

The mages were quickly removed, the presence of templars and blades as good a deterrent to escape as any chains. The Grand Enchanter came hurrying out from the keep as the trio was hauled off. To say Asala took out her remaining anger upon the older elf was an understatement.

“I understand the gravity of the situation, my Lady Inquisitor,” the Grand Enchanter agreed weakly, her voice low and slightly shaky, “but, _please_ , consider their youth. The young do not often weigh the consequences of the future against the impulses of the moment.”

“And that excuses anything!?”

“No! No, it certainly does not. I just implore you to bear it in mind when judging them.”

Asala didn’t so much tiredly release a sigh as angrily spit it out. The memory of draconic wings made out of snow and ice rising up behind her almost superimposed itself upon the present. Iron Bull refrained from shaking his head and instead blinked twice to clear the image. “I will _try_ to keep that in mind but they have their ultimatum,” she answered the Grand Enchanter, pointing to the recovering gate guard who was coming around a few metres away. The woman would be supported inside by other members of the Inquisition as soon as she was lucid enough. “I will give you one chance to impress upon them the reason why this situation is so serious and why it won’t be tolerated. Use it well and do better for those under your care than last time,” she bit out at the elf before turning sharply back to the recovering guard.

She was holding hard onto the beliefs and reasoning that had led the Inquisition to where they were now, but she was apparently also still willing to give a chance, however small. Iron Bull didn’t argue the harshness of the actions taken by her. Mages needed extreme control. Many couldn’t make the judgement call, which was why they were led among the Qunari. Of course, that wasn’t to say everyone failed. Dalish did good. She had had life to temper and caution her though.

Still… Mages running loose without anyone checking to see they weren’t abusing their power was like begging for it to happen or demons to descend upon you. It was like how many in the South grasped whatever power and riches they could come by. Most people wouldn’t know how to use either well.

**Author's Note:**

> Additional quests used: Information from the Grand Enchanter (war table operation)
> 
> "With great power comes great responsibility." Let's live by that.
> 
> To remember if I come by a million quid: Put half in long-term investment. Pay off any student debts with the rest and buy one or two expensive things I may want. Don't splurge a lot or pick up costly habits; the money will run out quickly and you'll be left looking stupid.  
> (That's pretty much what Bull means. Don't run around like a headless chicken when something unexpected happens.)


End file.
